Silver
She always looked for a silver lining
But never thought it would be a silver razor
One side dull
The other thin, sharp
Admiring it reflecting the single light in her room
Gripping it in one hand
Exposing her wrist
Placing razor to wrist
She turns her head
Gliding it across her wrist
Watching blood drip
Seeing a demon escape as well
She has many demons in her
Every cut releases one
But there are too many demons to cut out
She puts her razor away
Pulls down her sleeves
Waits her arms to heal
Then she repeats the process
Over and over again
Guide that inspired this poem: